seeing.
'The damned,' was Uluyara's whispered, heavy reply.
'So many..' Halisstra whispered in the same stunned monotone.
'All the drow who died while Lolth was silent, I would suppose,' said Feliane. 'Where are they going?'
'Not to the Abyss,' Uluyara replied.
As they came closer and closer Halisstra couldn't help but pick out faces among the slowly drifting forms of the recently deceased. All of the dark elves appeared uniformly gray, as if they were merely charcoal renderings and not real drow. When she looked directly at one of them, a female probably too young for the Blooding, Halisstra could see right through her to the spinning rock that was passing behind.
One of the shades noticed her and briefly made eye contact, but the departed soul didn't slow in its progress or make any move to speak to her.
'Where are they going?' Halisstra asked, seeing first one, then another of the ghosts wearing a symbol of Lolth or other trinkets and heraldry that showed them as devotees of the Spider Queen. 'If not the Abyss, if not to Lolth's domain, then where?'
Hope leaped in Halisstra's chest. If the dead among her loyal followers weren't going to Lolth's side but were going somewhere, perhaps there was some hope for a follower of the Spider Queen besides oblivion.
'Eilistraee's own spell,' said Feliane, 'was drawing us to the Abyss, and we weren't going this way.'
'When I was in the Demonweb Pits with the Baenre sister and the others,' Halisstra recounted, 'we saw no souls such as these. Quenthel remarked on their absence. The sixty-sixth layer held only hordes of feral demons, two warring gods, and a sealed-off temple.'
'Should we follow them?' Feliane asked Uluyara. 'If they are Lolth's followers, they might be moving toward her, even if they aren't moving toward the Abyss.'
'Could Lolth have abandoned the Abyss itself?' Halisstra asked.
Both Halisstra and Feliane looked to Uluyara for answers, but the drow priestess only shrugged.
Halisstra willed herself closer to the line of souls and watched them go by, waiting for an older priestess to pass, someone who looked as if she might have some insight. As the dead filed past her, Halisstra saw mostly males, warriors obviously, and a few driders in the mix. From their costumes and heraldry, Halisstra could tell that the drow came from a number of cities spread across the length and breadth of the Underdark.
Finally, a priestess approached whom she thought looked suitable, and Halisstra drifted closer still. She reached out her hand to touch the passing soul, when someone called to her.
Halisstra,the voice said, echoing directly into her mind.
Halisstra blinked and slapped her hands to her head. She was only dimly aware of Uluyara and Feliane asking after her condition.
The sound of the psychic voice echoed in her skull, the gravity of it pushing all other thoughts away.
'Ryld. . ' she said through a jaw tight and quivering.
I'm here, the Master of Melee-Magthere whispered into her consciousness.
Halisstra opened her eyes and was face to face with the ghostly shadow of Ryld Argith. The drow warrior stood tall and proud in his shadowy armor, his hands at once reaching out for her and pushing her away. Tears burst from her eyes, blurring her vision of her lover's disembodied soul.
I loved you, he said.
Halisstra had been trying not to cry, but with those three words she broke into body-racking sobs that sent her drifting slowly away from him in the Astral aether. She wanted to say a hundred things to him, but her throat closed, her jaw clenched, and her head throbbed.
I gave up everything for you, he said.
'Ryld,' Halisstra managed finally to say. 'I can bring you—'
He didn't so much say «no» as he imparted that feeling into her consciousness. Halisstra gasped for air.
I go to Lolth now, said Ryld. I don't belong with Eilistraee, even if I belonged with you.
'I didn't choose her over you, Ryld,' Halisstra said, though she knew she was lying. 'I would have turned away from her if you'd asked me to.'
Again, the feeling of 'no.'
'I wanted you,' she whispered.
You had me, he said, for as long as you could.
'Halisstra,' Uluyara whispered into her ear. Halisstra realized that the other drow priestess was holding her arm. 'Halisstra, ask him where he's going. Ask him where Lolth has gone.'
'He's going to her,' Halisstra said to Uluyara, then to Ryld: 'I love you.'
She blinked back her tears in time to see him smile and nod.
'To Lolth?' asked Uluyara. 'Where is she?'
'That's why we're here now, isn't it?' Halisstra asked the slowly drifting soul of Ryld Argith. 'Because we loved each other.'
Because we left our world behind, he said. Because we left ourselves there. You were able to create a new Halisstra, but I was not able to make a new Ryld. I'm here because I deserve to be. If not, the draegloth could never have beaten me.
'And we would still be together,' she said.
Tell your friends, he said, that Lolth has taken the Demonweb Pits out of the Abyss. We have been waiting, some of us for months, to feel her pull us across the Astral to her, and only now are we compelled so.
'Lolth,' Halisstra said to the other priestesses, her voice tight with regret, anger, hate, and too much more to bear, 'is bringing them home.'
'The Demonweb Pits is no longer part of the Abyss,' Uluyara guessed.
She's changing, Ryld said and his thoughts had the feel of a warning. She's changing everything.
Halisstra felt Uluyara's grip on her arm tighten, and the priestess whispered to her, 'Let him go. There is only one way to serve him now.'
'W-we can bring him. . bring him back,' Halisstra stuttered, watching Ryld turn from her and drift slowly away with the other uncaring shades.
'Not if he doesn't want to go back,' Uluyara whispered, and the hand on her arm slipped into a snug embrace.
Halisstra wrapped her arms around Uluyara and wept as Ryld dwindled from sight farther and farther along the line of the damned.
Chapter Twenty-five
'Welcome to the Abyss, corpse,' the glabrezu said. His voice was a low, rolling growl. 'Welcome to my home.'
'Belshazu,' Quenthel said, her scourge in her hand, vipers writhing expectantly.
The demon didn't look at her. Instead, he kept his burning eyes locked on Pharaun.
'I'm going to rip your soul from your body, mage, and eat it raw then vomit it up so it drips all over your quivering corpse and soaks into your shriveling skin and runs into your gaping mouth so it knows that you're dead,' the demon ranted.
'Well,' Pharaun replied, 'if you say so.'
'You will die,' Belshazu said to Pharaun, 'in the shadow of your dead goddess's ruined fortress.'
The Master of Sorcere saw Jeggred step up next to him from the corner of his eye. The draegloth was growling almost as low and as thunderously as the glabrezu—the demon that happened to be his father.
The glabrezu, its severed legs dripping dark blood onto the ancient battlefield, turned slowly to the draegloth and said, 'When I'm done with the drow, son, you can join me—have your freedom from the dark elves at last.'
Jeggred drew in a breath, and Pharaun could tell he was ready to pounce, though the glabrezu was hovering well out of his reach.
'Jeggred. .' Quenthel started but stopped when the draegloth whirled on her.
'It's meat to me,' Jeggred growled. 'Just another tanar'ri scum. That thing is no parent of mine.' He turned to
